A week passed in a blur.
I worked. I ate. I slept. I repeated the cycle. Like an automaton.
Adrian kept his distance. Cold. Distant. He gave orders; I followed them. We barely spoke.
But I felt his gaze. Constant. Heavy. Assessing.
He was watching me as if I were a curiosity. Or a threat.
The healer, Viktor Sergeyevich, came every two days. He examined me, gave me vitamins, and told me the pregnancy was progressing normally.
*Normally.* What an irony.
I was pregnant by a man who threw me away like trash. I was living in the estate of another man who protected me for unknown reasons. I was working as a secretary, though I knew nothing of the trade.
Normal.
The nausea finally subsided. I could eat without vomiting. But the fatigue remained—a constant, heavy weight.
And my body began to change.
Invisibly at first. I saw it. I felt it. Soon everyone would see.
What then?
I stood before the mirror in my room on the seventh morning.
The gown clung to my figure. I ran a hand over my stomach. There. A faint, subtle tension.
The child. My child.
Demyan’s child.
A pang of pain hit my chest. I turned away from the mirror.
*Don't think about him. He is dead to you.*
I dressed in a looser gown—dark blue, with a high waist. It hid my figure better.
I went down for breakfast.
Adrian was already in the dining room.
My hand froze on the door handle. He rarely ate breakfast with me, usually taking it in his study.
He looked up. Violet eyes, cold and hard.
"Sit."
I sat opposite him.
Marta poured tea and left us.
Silence.
I sipped my tea in small gulps, staring at my pte and avoiding his eyes.
“A guest is coming today,” Adrian said at st.
I looked up.
"Who?"
“Demyan Voronov.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
The cup slipped from my fingers, shattering against the floor. Shards everywhere. Tea pooled into a puddle.
I didn't breathe.
“What?” I managed to choke out.
Adrian leaned back in his chair, watching me calmly.
“He found out you are here.”
"How?"
“Voronov has long arms. His rats are everywhere.”
Panic hit me like a physical wave. My palms grew damp.
“He... is he coming here?”
“Yes. In an hour.”
I bolted upright, my chair cttering to the floor.
“I can't see him. I don't want to. Adrian, please...”
"Sit."
His voice was soft. Dangerous.
I sat. My hands were trembling.
“He demands the child’s return,” Adrian continued. “The heir of the Voronov Cn.”
“But he... he demanded an abortion! He didn't want a child from a Null!”
Adrian smirked. It was a cold, cruel expression.
“He changed his mind when he learned you are no Null,” Adrian’s smirk deepened. “Someone informed him of the fre of white light that night. If the child is from a mage mother, it has value. And if it is under *my* protection, it is an insult.”
I stared at him, uncomprehending.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I have challenged him,” Adrian stood and walked to the window. “I took his ex-wife. His child. It is an insult. It is war.”
“You want a war with the Voronov Cn?”
He turned and looked at me.
"I do not fear the Voronovs."
Silence.
I clenched my fists under the table.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked softly. “Why do you want this war? Why do you want me?”
He didn't answer. He just watched me.
Then he turned and walked out.
I remained there, alone in the shattered silence.
***
The hour passed far too quickly.
I stood in Adrian’s study, at the window, watching the gates.
A mobile approached the estate. Bck. Elegant. The Voronov Cn crest on the door—a winged serpent.
My breathing stopped.
The mobile door opened, and Demyan stepped out.
Tall. Fair-haired. Grey eyes. An impeccable suit.
My husband. My former husband.
Pain struck my chest—sharp, cutting. Echoes of a love that once was squeezed my heart.
I turned away from the window.
"Anya."
Adrian’s voice. I turned around.
He stood by the door, watching me.
“You stay here. In the study. Do not come out.”
"But..."
“That is an order.”
I nodded.
He left, and the door clicked shut.
I was alone. I could hear footsteps below. Voices. Demyan. Adrian.
I pressed my ear to the door and listened.
“Prince Chernov,” Demyan’s voice was cool, polite. “Thank you for receiving me.”
“Voronov,” Adrian replied, just as coldly. “To what do I owe the honor?”
“I think you know.”
Silence.
“My ex-wife,” Demyan continued. “She is here. Under your roof.”
"Yes."
“And she is pregnant. With my child.”
"Yes."
“I have come to take him.”
A pause.
“No,” Adrian said.
I heard Demyan draw a sharp breath.
"What?"
“I said no. Anya is under my protection. She and the child.”
“The child is the heir to the Voronov Cn! You have no right...”
“I have every right,” Adrian interrupted, his voice growing harder. “Anya works for me. She lives in my estate. She is my responsibility. And I will not give her to you.”
Silence. Long. Heavy.
“Do you understand what this means?” Demyan asked softly.
"Yes."
“War. Between our cns.”
“If you want war—you shall have it.”
I heard Demyan step closer.
“Chernov, don't be a fool. The child carries Voronov blood. My heir.”
“Your heir whom you demanded be killed,” Adrian noted icily. “Or have you forgotten?”
Demyan’s breath hitched. I could almost hear him clenching his fists.
“I... I received an ultimatum. The Cn Council knows. One of the servants reported the white light fre to my father. He gave me a condition: either I return the heir to the family, or I am stripped of my title and exiled. A Voronov child must belong to the Voronovs. With magic or without. If I don't bring him back—I will be erased.”
Adrian smirked.
“Too te. She is mine. The child is mine.”
"Chernov..."
“The conversation is over,” Adrian’s voice turned gcial. “Get out of my house before I reconsider my hospitality.”
I heard footsteps as Demyan left.
Then his voice, soft and lethal.
“This isn't the end, Chernov. I will have my heir back. At any cost.”
The heavy front door smmed.
Silence.
I backed away from the study door, breathing hard. My heart was pounding.
Demyan had left. But he would be back.
The war had begun.
***
The study door opened, and Adrian entered.
I was at the window, watching Demyan’s mobile drive away.
“He is gone,” Adrian said.
I nodded, but didn't turn around.
"Anya."
I turned.
Adrian watched me. His face was stone, but in his eyes... something dark. Dangerous.
“Did you hear?”
"Yes."
“Good. Then you understand: you are now at the heart of a war. Demyan won't stop. He will try to take the child.”
I clenched my fists.
“Why didn't you give me to him?” I asked quietly. “It would have been easier. There would be no war.”
Adrian stepped closer, stopping only a pace away.
“Because you are mine,” he said. His voice was low and hard. “I do not give up what belongs to me.”
“I am not a thing.”
“No,” he leaned in. His breath was hot against my cheek. “You are worse. You are my weakness and my strength.”
My heart hammered.
"What?"
His hand rose. Fingers trailed down my cheek. Cold. Firm.
A spark scorched his fingers, leaving a trail of fire. Magic sang in my blood, pushed to the limit.
I shivered.
“When I am near you, the pain goes away,” he whispered. “The magical sickness. It devours me from within. But you... you ease it. I don't know how. I don't know why. But I need you. Alive. Healthy. Near me.”
I didn't breathe.
“Is that... the only reason?”
His gaze dropped to my lips. It lingered.
“No,” he breathed. “Not the only one.”
He leaned closer. Our lips were almost touching.
Adrian pulled back abruptly. He turned away.
Then he pulled me into his arms, holding me tight.
“You are insane,” he whispered. “Do you understand that? You are insane.”
His voice was trembling.
“You could have died. Elisa would have killed you without a second thought if she considered you the slightest threat.”
“I know.”
“Then why? Why didn't you run? Why did you demand they leave?”
I pulled back and looked into his eyes.
“Because I'm not running, Adrian. Not anymore. I'm tired of being afraid. Tired of hiding.”
He watched me with a strange expression—a mix of admiration and dread.
“You are no Null,” he said softly. “You are fire. And one day you will burn this world down.”
“I hope not,” I smiled weakly. “I just want to survive.”
“You will survive,” he pulled me close again. “I promise.”
“Thank you,” he breathed into my hair. “Thank you.”
Marta stood at the door, her face pale.
“Prince,” she gasped. “Elisa Ogneva. She is here. Demanding an audience.”
Adrian went rigid.
"What?"
“She came alone. She is in a fury. She’s waiting below.”
I felt a spasm twist my gut. Speak of the devil...
Elisa. Demyan’s mistress. The woman who got me thrown out.
She was here. A very strange visit on the same day as Demyan. A coincidence? Or were they together?!
Adrian looked at me.
“Stay here. Do not come out.”
"Adrian..."
“That is an order, Anya.”
He left, Marta trailing behind. The door closed.
But I couldn't stay. I couldn't.
I went to the door and cracked it open. I listened.
Elisa’s voice. Low. Velvety. Lethal.
“Prince Chernov. At st, we meet.”
“Ogneva,” Adrian replied coldly. “To what do I owe the honor?”
“I have come to talk about... a misunderstanding.”
"What kind?"
“Anya Belskaya. Demyan’s ex-wife. She’s here, isn't she?”
Silence.
"Yes."
“And she’s pregnant.”
"Yes."
Elisa ughed. The sound was cold, razor-sharp.
“How charming. A Null with a child. Demyan wants him back. But you refuse. Why?”
“That is none of your business.”
“Oh, but it *is* my business,” Elisa’s voice hardened. “I am Demyan’s fiancée. The future matriarch of the Voronov Cn. And I won't allow some Null to bear an heir in my pce.”
“The child already exists,” Adrian noted coldly. “It’s too te to change that.”
“No,” Elisa stepped closer. I could hear her footsteps. “It’s not too te. Accidents happen. Especially to pregnant women.”
I stopped breathing.
She was threatening me. Threatening my baby.
“If you touch her,” Adrian’s voice turned gcial, “I will destroy you. And your cn. To the st man.”
Elisa ughed.
“Threats? Seriously? Chernov, you're protecting a Null. That is weakness. And in our world, weakness is death.”
“Get out,” Adrian growled. “Before I reconsider my hospitality.”
Silence. Then footsteps. Elisa was leaving.
Her voice, soft and dangerous.
“She will die, Chernov. Sooner or ter. And there will be nothing you can do.”
The door smmed.
I backed away from my door, my hands shaking.
Elisa wanted me dead. She wanted my baby dead.
And Adrian... he was protecting me. My only hope was in him.
The study door opened, and Adrian entered.
His face was stone, but his violet eyes were abze. Shadow magic swirled around him—living, hungry.
I backed away until my spine hit the wall.
"Adrian..."
He stepped toward me, stopping only a foot away.
“Did you hear?”
I nodded. “Elisa wants to kill me.”
"Yes."
“What am I to do?”
He watched me for a long time. Then he held out his hand.
In his palm y an amulet—a bck stone in a silver setting. The mark of the Chernov Cn.
“Wear this,” he said. “Always. It is a protection amulet. It will deflect a magical attack. Once.”
I took the amulet. It was cold and heavy.
"Thank you."
“Do not take it off,” Adrian added. “Never. Elisa is not joking. she will kill you if she can.”
I put the amulet on. It rested against my chest, a chill creeping over my skin.
Adrian watched me. For a long time.
Then his hand rose, fingers sliding down my cheek.
“I won't let anyone hurt you,” he whispered. “Not Voronov. Not Ogneva. No one.”
“Why?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Why are you doing this?”
His gaze dropped to my lips.
“Because I can't do anything else.”
He leaned in. His lips touched mine. Lightly. Almost tenderly.
Magic exploded between us—white light mixing with bck shadow, creating a vortex that stole my breath.
I flinched, and he deepened the kiss. Harder. Hungrier.
His arms coiled around my waist, pulling me close.
I threw my arms around his neck, responding to the kiss. Desperately. Hungrily.
The world vanished. Only we remained. His lips. His hands. His magic.
He tore himself away from my lips, breathing hard. His eyes were nearly bck.
"Anya," he breathed. "You..."
A knock at the door. We sprang apart.
“Prince,” Marta’s voice came. “An urgent message from the Council of Seven.”
Adrian swore—low and hard.
He let me go and stepped back.
“Go to your room,” he said, his voice husky. "Rest."
I nodded. My legs were like jelly.
I left the study. In the corridor, I leaned against the wall, catching my breath.
He had kissed me.
Adrian Chernov. The Prince of Shadows. The most dangerous mage in Eridia.
He had kissed me. Why?
I didn't know. But I felt it: something had changed. Between us. Forever.
***
I didn't sleep that night.
I y in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking.
Demyan wants the child back. Elisa wants me dead.
Adrian is protecting me. But why?
He said I ease his pain. The magical sickness.
But that wasn't all. I saw it in his eyes. Something more.
Desire. Obsession. Need.
He wants me. Not just as medicine. As a woman.
But I am pregnant. With another man’s child.
What man would want a woman in such a position?
Adrian is no ordinary man.
I pced a hand on my stomach. My baby. My child.
I had to protect him. At any cost.
Even if it meant staying with Adrian. Even if it meant becoming his... what? Mistress? Wife? Sve?
I didn't know. But I knew there was no going back.
I got up and went to the window. I looked out at the night garden.
Shadows coiled between the trees—living, hungry.
Adrian’s magic saturated this pce. I could feel it: cold, dangerous, alluring. Like the man himself.
A knock at my door. I turned.
"Come in."
Marta entered. Her expression was grave.
“Miss Belskaya,” she said softly. “The Prince requests your presence in his study.”
My fingers clutched the edge of the bnket.
“Now? At night?”
“Yes. He said it was urgent.”
I nodded. I dressed and went down.
Adrian’s study was lit by candles. He stood by the window, his back to me.
“You called?” I asked.
He turned. His face was weary, shadows under his eyes.
"Sit."
I sat.
He went to the desk, pulled out a document, and id it before me.
"What is this?"
“A contract,” he said. “An official one. You become my ward. Under the protection of the Chernov Cn. Legally.”
I looked at the document. Seals. Signatures.
"Why?"
“So that Demyan cannot take the child through the Council,” Adrian expined. “If you are my ward officially, he has no legal standing.”
I stared at the contract, then at him.
“What do you want in return?”
He smirked coldly. “You think I'm bartering?”
“Everyone barters. Especially mages.”
Silence.
Adrian sat across from me and looked into my eyes.
“I want you to stay,” he said quietly. “After the birth. Do not leave. Work for me. Live here.”
"Why?"
“Because I need you.”
“As medicine?”
His eyes narrowed. “Not only that.”
Silence.
I watched him, trying to understand.
“Adrian, I am pregnant. With another man’s child. I’m a Null. I know nothing. Why do you want me?”
He stood up and came closer, stopping beside my chair.
“Because when I am with you, I feel alive,” he said, his voice husky. “For the first time in years. The magic doesn't gnaw at me. The pain goes away. I can breathe. I want to *live*!”
His hand settled on my shoulder.
“You are my salvation, Anya. My curse. My obsession.”
The magic grew dense. Heavy. Thicker.
I shivered.
“Sign the contract,” he whispered. “Stay with me. I will protect you. Your child. I will give you anything you want.”
“And if I refuse?”
His fingers tightened on my shoulder. It hurt.
“Don't refuse.”
It wasn't a request. It was an order. A threat.
I met his gaze. “And if I refuse anyway?”
Silence. Long and heavy.
Then he let me go and stepped back.
“Then I will let you go,” he said quietly. “But Demyan will take the child. Elisa will kill you. And I will be able to do nothing.”
I looked at him, then at the contract.
I never had a choice.
I took the quill and signed my name.
Adrian took the contract and looked at the signature. He smirked.
“Welcome to the Chernov Cn, Anya Belskaya.”
He held out his hand.
I took it. His fingers closed over mine. Tight.
Magic exploded between us—dark, greedy, and alive. It bound us with threads. I felt them everywhere.
I cried out. Pain. Heat. Cold.
Adrian’s magic flooded into me. Bck. Cold. Living.
I tried to pull my hand away, but I couldn't.
“Adrian! What are you doing?!”
“Binding us,” he breathed, his eyes nearly bck. “A magical bond. Now I will always feel you. Know where you are. What is happening to you.”
“You... you didn't ask!”
"Forgive me."
The magic receded. He let go of my hand.
I colpsed into the chair, breathing hard. My heart was thumping.
A mark burned in my palm. Bck. The symbol of the Chernov Cn.
“What have you done?” I whispered.
“I marked you,” he said simply. “Now everyone knows: you are mine.”
I stared at the mark, then at him.
“You... you bound me without my consent.”
"Yes."
“That is... that is vioting.”
He leaned over me, his face inches from mine.
“Yes,” he whispered. “But I had no choice. I cannot lose you. I cannot.”
His lips touched mine. Hard. Hungry.
I shoved him away.
"Get out!"
He recoiled. "Anya..."
“Get out!” I screamed. “Out of my room! Out!”
He straightened up and watched me for a long moment. Then he turned and left.
The door closed.
I was alone. I looked at the mark on my palm. Bck. Burning.
A bond. A magical bond.
He had marked me. Like a piece of property. Like an object.
The tears began to fall. I didn't stop them.
I hated him. I hated him for what he had done.
But I felt the bond—a thin thread between us. Pulsing. Alive.
I felt *him*. His magic. His pain. His... loneliness.
He hadn't lied. He really did need me.
But it didn't excuse what he’d done.
I y on my bed and hugged my pillow. I cried for a long time until I fell asleep.
***
The morning began with pain.
I woke to a sharp burning in my palm. The mark was abze, pulsing with light.
I sat up and looked at my hand. The mark glowed with a bck radiance.
*What...?*
And then I felt it.
Adrian. He was in danger.
The bond was screaming. Pain. Fury. Magic.
I ran out of the room. Barefoot. In my nightgown.
I dashed down the corridor. Toward his quarters.
The door was standing open.
I stopped at the threshold.
Adrian was lying on the floor. Writhing. Blood dripped from his nose. From his ears.
The magical sickness. An attack.
If he dies... I am free, and I am a corpse.
No bond. No control. No war with the Voronovs.
I could leave. Now. While he couldn't stop me.
My fingers curled into fists. My heart was racing.
But then... Elisa would kill me. Demyan would take the baby.
Without Adrian, I am dead.
It wasn't pity. It was cold calcution.
I am saving him for my own sake. For the baby’s. For survival.
I hate him. I hate him for what he did.
But I need his protection.
I stepped into the room, sank down beside him, and grabbed his hand.
He looked at me. His eyes were nearly white. Pain.
“Anya... go...”
“Shut up,” I grunted. “I still need you alive.”
I gripped his hand tighter. The bond pulsed. I felt his pain—sharp, cutting.
The shadow magic was eating him from within.
*Don't think. Act.*
I closed my eyes and focused. Inside, something stirred—something faint, barely perceptible.
My magic. The white light. The Primal Spark.
I channeled it into Adrian through the bond.
Light flooded out of me. Warm. Soft.
Adrian cried out, arching his back.
The shadows receded. The pain subsided.
He breathed hard, deeply.
I opened my eyes. My head was spinning. Exhaustion hit me all at once.
But he was alive. Breathing.
“Why?” he whispered. “Why did you save me?”
I looked at him. At his violet eyes, watching me as if I were a puzzle he couldn't solve.
I could have lied. I could have said it was pity. That I couldn't watch him die.
But I didn't lie.
“Because without you, I am dead,” I said softly. “Demyan will take the child. Elisa will kill me. You are my only protection. I saved you for myself. Not for you.”
He watched me for a long time, then smiled. Slowly. Coldly.
“Honesty,” he said. “I like that.”
He reached out and touched my cheek. His fingers were warm now. Tender.
“You saved me for yourself,” he whispered. “And I... I protect you for myself as well. Because without you... without you, I am alone again.”
I stopped breathing.
"Adrian..."
“Rest,” he said, pulling back. “Tomorrow will be a long day. I must speak with Voronov. Make him understand that you are under my protection. And if he ever dares to come here again...”
He didn't finish, but I saw the Shadows in his eyes—living, hungry, and ready to kill.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He nodded and left.
I y on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
*Without you, I am alone again.*
His words echoed in my mind.
Adrian Chernov—the most dangerous mage in Eridia. The Prince of Shadows. A man feared by all.
And he was lonely.
I turned onto my side, pressing a hand to my stomach.
My baby. My child. Under the protection of the Chernov Cn.
I closed my eyes.
Tomorrow would be a long day. Adrian would go to Demyan and decre war. Because I was his. And no one dared touch what was his.
Not even the Voronov Cn.
I remembered Demyan’s face. His cold grey eyes. His words: “Have an abortion.”
Now he wants the child back because I am no Null. Because the child is valuable.
But he won't have him. Never.
Because Adrian Chernov does not abandon his own.
I got up and went to the window, pulling back the heavy curtain.
Below, in the garden, shadows were moving. Not ordinary shadows—magical ones.
There were hundreds of them. They stood in a perimeter around the Obsidian Pace. Tall, silent sentinels. In their hands—or what passed for hands—glimmered bdes of pure darkness.
They weren't hiding. They were waiting. Waiting for anyone who dared cross the line.
I pressed my forehead to the cold gss.
It was an army. His army. And right now, it stood guard over my sleep.
And I... I was one of his now.
I smiled in the darkness. For the first time in an age, I felt safe. Protected. Wanted.
And then I slept.
